Day 103

Yesterday was fun. Had lunch with Julia and we took a ride afterwards to the harbor and along the ocean. There are huge yachts waiting out the wind. The extravagance is incredible. Today Hollie and I will meet at the farmers’ market. I’m looking forward to bringing home a bag full of fresh vegs. The market seems to be a social event too. I’m feeling words coming on for the paper journal. I will add a bit of doodling.

Day 102

I found a welcome back gift on my desk at the senior center. It was a nice gesture. The day went OK and I did get tired. I can do one day a week. I had two walks, one with dogs. Been pondering the lyrics to Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah. It was suggested by Rob’s horoscope. It is a long song with ups and downs in mood exactly like life itself. I’ll share it at J street journals on Monday.

Day 101

I’m going back to the senior center after a month away. I will decide if I want to keep going or not. I realize that stress sets my progress back and I’m dedicated to forward progress. Yesterday I introduced pollywogs to their new pond. I want them to thrive here. I enjoy hearing frogs singing. Karen gave me a wonderful massage and I walked home without any aches. I’ll get a walk in before I dress for volunteer duty.

Day 100

I went to Rite-Aid to find the liquid iron that Denise uses and there it was, Geritol. I laughed out loud thinking of Lawrence Welk and his champagne bubble a-one-and-a two music. I’m now at the age of people that liked his program. Thankfully I’m a bit more modern. Museum duty today. I look forward to going there. There is no stress and the people are interesting. And it’s the first farmers’ market downtown. Hollie and I may go. 

Day 99

The Minnie alarm clock went off before 5 this morning. She has a way of making snuggling impossible. I had a few minutes to enjoy that wonderful time between awakening and dreaming. I had Maya Angelou’s words on my mind: “I am human. Therefore nothing human is foreign to me.” So, humans are all capable of being Hitler or Mother Teresa. That sure takes care of judgments. I will recall that when the homeless parade goes by my home. 

Day 98

Jon is making a labyrinth for Chris. It is an ambitious project and his plan is solid. They might make a frog pond too. Frogs are the environment equivalent of canaries in mines. Frogs are the green line and need to be supported. I have a blow-up pool and it won’t work. Today I will get a hard sided pool and put it under the rhody tree. Had an early catch-up call with Kelle. Way to start the day.

Day 97

New month, new haircut, new attitude, new ideas for moving forward. I’m going to make a frog pond in the backyard. I miss hearing them so I’ll hope to make frogs happy here. The early bird songs are the best alarm clock I can think of. When the Minnie alarm goes off about 5 am, I can listen for the soft waking up bird songs. Today, after church, I have a plan to get busy with a creative project.

Senior news column

June Fathers

My father had two passions: salmon fishing and growing flowers. He was very good at both pursuits. When I was a little girl I wanted to go fishing with him out on Humboldt Bay in his small boat but unfortunately as soon as the waves would move us up and down I was sea sick after about half an hour and he had to bring me back to the beach. I gave up trying after a couple of trips. The salmon steaks were welcome at the dining room table and I was sorry that I couldn’t have been there when he brought them in. I did better with the gardening. I have wonderful memories of following him around while he talked about the plants and instructed me on which were weeds that I could pull out and which were not to be touched. My father had a giant green thumb with fuchsias and begonias. He knew where they would be happy and how to feed and care for them. They seemed to bloom bigger and longer than any other peoples’ plants. Once I asked him his secret and he said he tipped his cigar ashes into the containers. Maybe that was the secret ingredient.

Years later on a visit to Crescent City, my father asked me to show him my garden. Outside were rows of carrots, cabbages, potatoes, chard, onions  and a wall of peas. “Where are the flowers?”, he asked. I gave him the cold hard economic facts of being a single parent with three teen-agers. “You can’t eat flowers.” He went to the pea patch and happily munched on the fresh pods. Later, thanks to one of my sons, we had fresh fish, not salmon, for dinner along with the produce from the backyard. I know my father was disappointed that I didn’t have any of the plants that thrive here like the ones he grew so well in Eureka.

Now I have the time and place for growing flowers. Once when I was watering the fuchsias, I swear I smelled cigar smoke. All I know for sure it that the plants were happy and more prolific than ever before. Along with flowers, I still have vegetables: peas, chard, green onions, spinach, and kale are growing in my garden. There is room in my garden for both flowers to nourish my soul and vegetables  to nourish my body.